Another Year Gone Past Without Posting

Sometimes it is just so hard to post anything and not sound like I am whining. That is something I certainly do not want to start doing.

 This past year I lost a good friend. You know how some say someone is taken too young? Well that is exactly the way I fell. Let me introduce you to Greyson Asher.

I met Greyson while playing an online game. It was an adult 3D world where anything could go. It actually didn't take long for me to get tired of the whole cybering thing and I started making good real friends in this world.

 Greyson and his then Lady Erika, I met through a mutual friend, who eventually broke my heart. (but that is neither here nor there) Many times, I would tell Greyson that he was very intimidating. He could never understand why. I tried to explain that the vibration I got from him through our numerous private talks just felt like he was a very old soul and that he had more power in his little finger than I could ever hope to have. He would just laugh and shake his head.

 Eventually, I became the counselor of Greyson in this make believe world. I would always be at family meetings, or meetings with other houses, where I could give him advice on whatever he was being approached about. Many times we were the house who mediated between problems with other houses or families.

 Just as all things end, going to that game ended for us at about the same time. We tired of all the back biting and fighting between houses, and it was getting impossible to just find time to visit.

 We we left about the same time, but never lost touch. He worked at a hospital, working his way through medical school and sometimes we would spend all night long talking on GTalk. He would have to excuse himself many times just to check on a patient that had walked in. *smiles* He even sent his "family" a picture of the first baby he was delivered. He looks so proud as does the mother of the child.

Then, a few months ago, he told me of his own health problems. I set up healing rituals and hoped against hope I would have my Grey to talk to again, and visit as he ran back and forth caring for those souls that walked through the door of his hospital.

One night we said goodnight and that was it.

 I found out a few days later that my Greyson was gone.

 Crossed over and now on the realm of spirit. It has been very hard for me to accept that I will not see his smiling face or hear his infectious laugh again.

No more will we speak together on the physical of spiritual things, me helping him remember things from his past lives.

 I miss Greyson. I don't think I will ever get used to him being gone. However I know, he's out there somewhere and I am sure that one day, we will be able to speak together again.

Dance in joy Greyson. Dance in joy.

My Second gift for 911 Anniversary

I found this on the web, shortly after the towers fell.  I usually post it somewhere every year around the time the World cried. 

A Pagan's View of 911

Where were the Gods

All the Gods were terribly busy during the evening of September 10, 2001. They sent feelings of foreboding to many people, and for some they sent minor illnesses that prevented them from wanting to go to work, or to take that flight the next morning. For those who persisted in spite of bad feelings and upset tummies or headaches, the Gods worked on through the early hours of the morning, setting up traffic snarls, and delaying mass transit. They caused forgetfulness and arguments that delayed many more people from reaching their flights on time, or getting to work during the crucial minutes that could have taken their lives.

The World Trade Center normally has over 50,000 people in it. Less than 20,000 actually showed up for work on time that day, ignoring or oblivious to all the signs the Gods put in their way. The airplanes had seating for more than a 1,000 people each; quite a few seats were empty on all four flights that day. The Gods rode those airplanes, standing ready to support their people. Mars and Athena, Thor and the Morrigan soothed anxieties, and instilled the people with courage to meet their fate bravely.

Those who chose to fight (it could have been ALL of the passengers, for all we know - and that's what I choose to believe), the Gods stood by them, offering them support and channeling away their fears. Valkyries escorted the flights to their destinations to help the Gods lift the souls at just the right time to the afterlife of their beliefs. When the planes struck the towers and the Pentagon, the Gods were there, striking fear into those who had time to flee so they would run faster, and cradling the spirits of the ones who died.

They sat beside the wounded, soothing them until rescue came - and urging the rescuers to hurry. When the planes struck the towers in New York City, the buildings did not collapse immediately. They stood tall and trembling, held up by the hands of many Gods so as many people as possible could evacuate the buildings -not just the towers, but the buildings nearby, too. When the towers were so fragile the Gods had to let go, they pushed the walls inward, so the towers didn't fall across the city and cause even greater damage. They collapsed neatly in on themselves in as small a space as they could. And when the damage to the Pentagon and the towers was done, the Gods spent time supporting each rescue worker and volunteer as they tackled the grizzly backbreaking work of searching for the wounded and retrieving the dead, giving them strength and determination, keeping despair at bay. Other Gods, among them powerful Quetzalcoatl and loving Amaterasu and tender Glioca, cherished the shocked souls of the citizens of the two cities, giving them the courage to face another day in a ravaged city, the courage to go back to work, the courage to smile again. And still other compassionate Gods: Kuan Yin, Krishna, Demeter, Hera, Buddha and the Jade Emperor of Heaven, guarded the wounded souls of the friends and families who searched for and waited for word of their missing loved ones, ready to support them through the grief when they learned it was their loved one who was dead, and cheering with them when one was found alive.

All around the country, the Gods rallied to their people, sending power to heal the spiritual wounds to those who had the knowledge and desire to use that power. Prayer circles and healing circles dotted the land, candles burned on shelves, and bonfires blazed in tribute to the fallen, and in praise of the living. Love, love from the peopleand love from the Gods, were balm to the wounded heart of the land.

Only a tithing of those who should have died that terrible day did. Each person who died paid the price of life for their coworkers and fellow travellers. What the Gods planned is unknown to me, but I know each soul was tenderly cherished as it left it's body. The Gods were terribly busy then. And they are busy still. Pause and feel the power of the Gods thrumming through the air. Hear the words of the Gods through the voices of their people. See the work of the Gods all about you. The power of the gods is in you and of you - and you are not alone.

Author Unknown

On the 10th Anniversary of 911, I share two things with everyone.

Here is a heart moving video from a wonderful band called "The Silent Still".  Check them out on their website.

Gratitude Seems to be the Thought of the Day

First thing every morning I get up and make coffee for myself and Mom. Then after I sit with her for a while, I settle in front of the computer and begin looking at several sites that start my morning.

Today has been the same as every other day.

However, instead of the usual multitude of game requests and silly status jokes, I have found more than one entry about Gratitude. Funny little word. Gratitude.

So I get to thinking. Am I showing my gratitude enough: To my family, to my friends, to my God/dess?

Lets take a look for a moment at my present state of affairs.

My house looks like a clutter bomb went off. Everytime I think about getting up and trying to declutter the place I get side tracked. I'm side tracked so easily now days. So very little gets done. But Damn it I at least have a roof over my head. I have a house that can have clutter in it. There's one point to be thankful and show gratitude about.

I go in the kitchen to figure out what to make for lunch and supper. My freezer has two packages of meat. I have only a few cans of veggies and an a box of instant oatmeal. In my icebox I have one stick of margarine, no eggs, no milk and no cheese...hmmm....I think I might have some rice noodles in the pantry but I'll have to look. Well, at least I have something I can try to throw together. Only four days before I can buy groceries and tomorrow I can actually go to a food pantry and get a bit extra to tide me over. I think to myself for a fleeting second...what's there to be thankful for. Then I stop and remember. At least I have the food I have. I know there are others that have nothing and have had nothing for days if not weeks. All I have to do is turn on CNN to see the horrifying pictures of children dying because of no food or water. So yes, even with so little I have so much to be grateful for.

I sit back down and look at my bank account. Yep still overdrawn by 4.00. By the time the paychecks hit the bank you can add another 13 dollars for our extended overdraft fee. Not a penny to my name. But I know there is money coming. Money to pay bills and buy maybe one or two things we just enjoy having. I certainly need to be grateful for that. At least one of the men in this household is working and the other is looking hard for employment every day. My mother, bless her, has her SSI check that is regularly deposited so that we can make ends meet. I am truly grateful for that.

And we are all healthy. Nuff said there. Very grateful for our health.

So I guess all the posts I read earlier were just a reminder, if I get a bit down about my present circumstance, and I take a step back and look really hard, I come to this conclusion

I am truly Blessed and for that I have eternal Gratitude.

Dusty Altars

But the Power remains Strong.

Altars are very personal things for anyone who has one. Whether they be communial, family or personal ones, there, in most cases seems to be a need to keep them shiney and clean.

But what happens if that Altar becomes dusty, becomes disorganized?

I was thinking about this very thing just the other night as I went to bed and noticed my own personal Altar. Although it isn't dirty, to anyone who does now know me, it would seem to be neglected. This is far from the truth.

I have certian long term rituals that I never take down, that the only thing that is moved or replaced is the seven day glass candle. Everything else has its purpose and is fully active.

So what of it? What of the dust on the wood, or the dullness of the stones and/or chalice? Does it make a difference?

Some will say I am being disrespectful. That I am not showing proper respect to my craft as a witch nor the power that I am asking for. They will say that I shouldn't keep doing this and that I need to straighten up the cockeyed wand or polish the silver pentegram.

Why?

Here is my view. The things on my Altar are just that. Things. They do not breathe, they do not eat nor sleep. They are embued with only what I allow. My intent is firmly in the ritual. And the most important thing? I have faith that the rituals are doing what I need. Bringing the outcome that is best for me and mine.

When one pays more attention to how something looks, now shiney or polished they can get things, theres a chance they are not concentraiting on their intent enough. Of course that is only my opinion and I fully expect that many will see things differently.

What is the difference of having a dusty Altar and having no altar at all.

Come to think of it, do we need things or Altars to even expect our power to work? Why is it so important that we gather things to put on our Altars?

The power is there. The power is strong,

I guess my Dusty Altar isn't to bad after all.


This was originally written for an essay for a group I belonged too. But Recently I was thinking about it and decided to repost it here.

The Rest of the World

Sometimes I wonder where the rest of the world is compared to me. Of if I am too sensitive for the rest of the world.

Point.

I just read and heard that there had been an explosion in Norway, along with a gunman opening fire in a political youth camp.

So what do I do. I turn on the news station and hit my twitter and facebook accounts for more information.

What do I find?

Very little about the explosion or how others feel about it. I find instead a wall full of game requests, tweet after tween from ComicCon....And I sit rather still and wonder do they even know what has happened and if they care that lives have been lost.

I flashback to 911 where I actually had people on my friends list that couldn't understand why I was so upset because I lived hundreds of miles away.

When the Explosion happened in Bali or the various earthquakes/floods/natural disasters happened half way across the globe, I still seemed to be effected by it where many on my friends lists and even my own family and neighbors didn't seem phased about these things.

So I wonder. Where is the Rest of the world when it comes to these things. Are they that disassociated with death and destruction that it no longer bothers them? Do they not pay attention because it makes them feel safer not to acknowledge the deaths and horror?

Maybe it is just me. Maybe I am too much of a sensitive to bother with the news anymore. Too caring that a life, even a life I know nothing about across the world in a place I will probably never visit, to be understood.

I don't know. I just don't understand.




NOTE: This is not directed at any one in particular. No one has done or said anything to make me wonder if they are truly my friends. Those that know me, will realize this is something I have always wondered and struggled with. Bless you all who take the time to send prayers and anything else to those in harms way.

Depression of a Souther Wiccan Lady.

There used to be a time when a proper Southern Lady didn't talk about certain things. One of those things was depression. Even today you will find many women in the south, not admitting that they are might sometime have to struggle with depression.

Maybe it is because some of them still, to this day do not understand that depression, as many other disorders is an illness and not a sign of weakness, insanity or embarrassment.

For me, this is something I have truly lived and struggled with all my life and have spoken very little openly about. I can't tell you why, except there were just things one didn't talk about. And as my precious mother would say, "you just have to find a way to deal with it."

Easier said than done.

Depression is one of the reasons I haven't posted to this blog in a few days.

Lets just say my stop smoking has almost completely gone to the way of the dinosaurs. Granted I'm not smoking a pack a day, but I am still finding myself walking outside at least twice a day to have that little puff of hell.

But that isn't the point of this blog. I'll continue to work on that aspect of my life and my health.

This entry is strictly about depression.

I don't have any educational or medical answers. I have only myself and my thoughts.

When depression starts, it usually is something simple that sets it off. A word taken the wrong way, a glass left full on the desk, even something as simple as one of the pet trying to get close to be loved, only to have me push them away because my nerves are frayed.

If I can't get that depression under control quickly, it begins to spiral downwards. Each moment becoming darker and denser. I can't breathe sometimes. I can't find the energy to do simple things. Even my hygine seems to suffer. I don't care to brush my hair or shower. All I want to do is find somewhere and sit, simmer and fester.

This is one of those times. I can't see an end to anything at all. And it seems that everything that happens is much worse than it really is.

I know, deep in my soul that everything will work out. Whether it be finances or the well being of everyone here. But my emotions are unchecked. I yell at the slightest of things. I want to cry all the time and I really don't want that kind word or that gentle touch that is offered to bring me comfort. Its like I would rather suffer, to hurt in silence and alone.

I also know that this will not last. I will keep clawing my way up. I will keep fighting to make myself do the things that need to be done. I will look into the eyes that love me, human and animal and see that I am not alone. I will know that with each step I take, I have many behind me and in front of me reaching out, helping me to find that next steady step.

Yes I am a proper Southern Lady. Yes I am a strong Spiritual Woman.

Depression will not take me. I am stronger and with help, I will once again be that light at the top of the hill, reaching out for others who are suffering in silence. I will take their hands and I will help them to reach the top, and together we will survive to fight another day.